


Tense

by coconutskins



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: F/F, i had to write it anyway, no one's gonna read that right, okay so, to get it out of my head!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coconutskins/pseuds/coconutskins
Summary: Angie is sick and tired of being asked whether she has a boyfriend or not and if not WHY NOT.. and she's taking it out on her poor, unassuming physiotherapist. Thank God that woman knows how to handle her.





	Tense

+

“I don’t know how else to reply to that question anymore,” Angie says, shrugs off her white sports jacket and throws it in the - well - general direction of a chair standing by the window.

“Just don’t then. Don’t answer it. It’s none of their business anyway.”

“And say what - _“no comment?”_ That’s just gonna get them more excited,” Angie snaps. She sighs then and adds: “I’m sorry. I didn’t--“

“Then stick to your reply. You want to concentrate on your tennis. It only makes sense,” the physiotherapist shrugs, “They’ll get tired of getting one and the same reply over and over and will eventually drop it.”

Angie sighs once more. 

“How do you do it?” she asks then.

“Uh?”

“I mean.. is there.. is there somebody? I mean, you’re away from home a lot as well.” Angie cringes internally at her own, stupid cringe-worthy-ness. She doesn’t know why she’s being so awkward about it, doesn’t know why she didn’t just ask whether Cathrin has a girlfriend back home. Or not.

“I do the same thing you do,” Cathrin smirks, “I’m concentrating on your tennis.”

Uh. 

“Do you need some more time for yourself?”

“Angie, I’m fine.”

“No, I’m serious. If you need a few weeks off to fly home - that’s okay. We can make that happen.”

“Really?”

Actually, no. Not really. Angie knows she needs her around. It’s just a little more than a week until the US Open and she knows for a fact that she can’t do that without her team. And Cathrin has become an integral part of it - not just as her physiotherapist. She’s become her rock, in fact, talking her down from all the silly thoughts and things that tend to give her trouble once in a while. It’s almost a little scary, actually, how important she’s become to her after only a few months.

“Of course.”

“I don’t need time off,” Cathrin says and nods her head towards the massage table, “Sit down.”

Angie does as she’s told.  
She takes off her shirt then, takes off her sports bra, scoots back a few more inches and closes her eyes when Cathrin’s hands come to rest on her shoulders.

“You’re quite tense,” the physio says after a few minutes, “Put your hands in your lap and try to relax your shoulders.”

“I’m trying,” Angie says, right away, her shoulders still tense, her hands by her side.

Cathrin rolls her eyes, but has to smile a little anyway.

“Do those questions really bother you so much?”

“No. I don’t know,” Angie shrugs.

“You can just ban personal questions, you know that,” the physiotherapist says, “You can’t let those things get to you. You need to stay focussed.”

“I’m not letting them get to me,” Angie snaps, “I’m fine. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, apparently it does matter,” the other woman says, calmly, “Lie down on your stomach. I’ll be right back.”

Angie sighs. She doesn’t know why she’s so annoyed, so thin-skinned today. She’s gotten the boyfriend question a hundred times, yes, it’s incredibly annoying, _sure_ , but she always managed to shrug it off without much of a second thought. Today though, she kind of let it get to her. Cathrin is right, of course she is. She always is. 

And Angie feels stupid and bad for exploding at her when, honest to God, the physiotherapist should be the very last person she snaps at. She’s always there for her, always listens, always makes sure that Angie’s life is as easy and comfortable as possible. So when Cathrin comes back, a new bottle of massage oil in her hands, Angie apologizes and Cathrin says she doesn’t need to and it’s okay and she understands - because that’s just what she does.

Angie really doesn’t deserve her, does she. But, man, she’s so glad that she’s got her.

“So,” Angie says after a while, “Are you seeing someone? Do you have a- do you have someone back home?”

Cathrin’s hands pause for a second, she's clearly surprised by the question and Angie is just about to take it back when she replies.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Cathrin laughs. “Are you playing the role of the journalist now? Am I you?”

Angie grins. “You have to say now: _'I just want to focus on my job at the moment. Loosening Angie’s tense muscles is all I care about.'_ ”

Cathrin laughs again but says: “I’m concentrating on helping Angelique Kerber reach that number one spot and stay there till the end of time,” she says, still smiling, “There is no time for another woman.”

Angie swallows. Something about that just.. she doesn’t quite know what it did to her, but her heart is pounding a little faster than it should right now. And Cathrin’s hands on her lower back aren’t helping either.

Okay.

_Okay._

She should probably say something right now, but she can’t, really. Cathrin’s hands are still there, making their way up her sides now, kneading her shoulders, her neck, her fingers digging into Angie's skin, trying to work out the tension that's still sitting there. Even more now than before now, probably, because Angie has trouble just breathing evenly.

“Thanks for everything,” Angie says then, swallowing once more, “I’m just, I'm really glad you’re here.”

There's a pause, a silence that seems to stretch endlessly, but then:

“Me too.”

Angie lets out a small sigh of relief, a smile makes its way on her face and she knows that, yeah, she's probably kind of fucked, but - it's okay. She thinks.

+


End file.
